Chapter 16: Swordmaster Fluffles

“We don’t allow animals in here,” said a grumpy-looking woman wearing a bowl-shaped hat.

“He’s my emotional support animal,” Zach said back to her as he grabbed two bottles of water out of the middlemost of three coolers. The convenience store was small, had no air conditioning, and barely covered the essentials, but at least he was able to find a can of cat food—which Fluffles insisted he be allowed to pick out for himself—and a cheap, small, one-gold plastic bowl for the cat to drink out of. Though his backpack had little left in the way of space, he could at least fit that.

“I don’t care what he is, dear. We don’t allow animals in here.”

“Mean lady should leave store then!” Fluffles snapped.

The woman clutched her mouth, and Zach groaned as she leapt backwards in fear, slamming her back into the wall behind her and knocking a bunch of magazines, smoke-sticks, and lighters off the shelves above her head. “Did that thing just speak?”

Zach rubbed his eyes out of frustration, which was a mistake, as he was sweating so profusely that the motion caused the sweat from his forehead to drip down and make them sting. Now, blinking away the pain, he tried to diffuse this situation before it got out of control.

“Look, ma’am, I don’t mean any disrespect, but—”

“How can that cat speak?” she shouted. She was dressed in a blue, button-up dress with a flower pattern stitched into the sides, and she pointed at Fluffles as though to reassure herself that he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Zach felt bad for her. She was probably someone’s mom. He didn’t want to give her a heart attack.

“He just…” Zach stopped himself. He was too exhausted for his, and he had no interest in actually coming up with an explanation. So instead, he simply shrugged and said, “He just can, okay?”

“Well…” She inched her way forward, slowly as if rattled, then leaned over the counter, glared at Fluffles, and straightened her back. “Well, we still don’t allow animals in here. Even if they can…even if they can talk.”

I don’t have time for this, Zach thought with a moan. Kalana is so far ahead of me.

“Ma’am,” he said, pointing to himself. “I’m not level 1.”

Her face paled, and she asked, “Sorry, what?”

Disregarding Mr. Oren’s warning, he tapped his shoulder four times so that his stats popped out right there in front of him in the store. There was no one else around, so unless this poor, middle-aged woman was secretly someone very powerful, Zach would be long gone before she could tell anyone about him.

Her reaction was immediate and caused Zach to well up with guilt, but at least it did the trick. The moment she saw his level, her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she looked at him as if he were the most threatening person she’d ever come across in her life.

“I meant no disrespect, sir,” she said to him. “In fact, you can just go ahead and take whatever you want and leave. It’s on the house today. Just please don’t tell your guild I disrespected you, and you can have anything you want.”

“Hurray!” Fluffles cheered.

Zach glared at the cat, and he hissed defensively as if sensing that Zach was displeased. Then, looking at the woman, he bowed his head to her. “Please, I don’t want anything for free. I’m not here to steal from you. I just want to buy my cat lunch and get some water.”

“Y-yes, sir, of c-c-course, just please don’t hurt me or nothin’. I apologize if anything I said or did was disrespectful.”

Zach dismissed his stats screen and moved his way through an aisle loaded with potato chips and candy until he pulled up to the counter. The look of fear in this woman’s eyes made him feel an extreme bout of guilt. This was not right. What he had just done was not right, and he wouldn’t do it again. That much, he promised himself. Mr. Oren would be appalled if he had observed Zach doing something like this just to save time on a silly argument. In the future, if someone had a problem with Fluffles, he would just have to wait outside, and that might upset him, but it was better than this.

Placing his items on the counter, he watched as the woman’s hands shook violently as she scanned each one, ringing him up. It was so bad that Zach had to twice more remind her that he was not at all here to harm her and that he, not she, was the one who was sorry. She merely insisted the mistake was her own and then resumed ringing him up.

Small bowl, round – 1g

CatYums Chicken & Beef – 1g

Water, Bottled – 1g

Water, Bottled – 1g

“Anything else y-you would like, s-sir?” she asked, her eyes dampening.

Zach thought about apologizing yet again, but at this point, he realized the nicest thing he could do for her was to hurry up and leave. Before reaching into his wallet, however, an object off to the right side of her store caught his eye. Next to a small selection of shotguns and hunting rifles was a cheap, two-gold compass. An old type of compass, too. Like, the ones that weren’t battery or solar powered and didn’t have to be turned on or anything. He quickly hurried over, grabbed it, and then put it down with the rest of his items.

Survival Incorp. Compass – 2g

“That’ll be 6 gold, sir, if you…if you feel like paying today.”

Zach nodded. “Do you have change of a 250?”

The woman nervously opened her cash register. “I’m sorry. Forgive me, but I don’t. Please understand, we’re a very small shop, and—”

Zach waved his hand at her. “You know what? Just keep the change.”

At this, every trace of fear in her reverted to shock as if a switch had been flipped. “You’re giving me 244 gold?”

It was, to be sure, a financially irresponsible thing to do. Between his phone, the bike, and the overpriced city snacks, he’d already spent somewhere around 750g, and so, with this, he’d have already burned through a fifth of his money. Yet his guilt propelled him to slap down the 250g coin, grab his items, which she’d already placed for him in a white plastic bag, wave goodbye, and then hurry out of the store, all while Fluffles continued to hiss and insult his manhood.

“Zach turn down free food and give away all our gold,” he muttered. “Zach is being a bad human. Fluffles should be in charge of gold now.”

Once outside of the store, Zach decided to wheel his bike to the next shopping center over before taking the bowl out of the bag and pouring half the bottle of water. Fluffles lapped it up, demanded the other half, and then feasted on the can of cat food the moment Zach opened it and placed it down for him.

“Okay, let’s move on. Kalana’s probably level 100 by now.”

Fluffles hopped in the basket without saying anything. Even without any further hissing, meowing, or just plain words, he could tell that the cat was annoyed with him. It struck him as odd—that a cat would be so stingy and uptight about money. Of all the things he now had to worry about in his life, the last thing he would ever have expected to add to that list was having a cat nag him about fiscal responsibility—oh, and did he ever nag! He only remained silent for about five minutes. Once Zach began pedaling and heading further into the town, the criticism began.

“We starve if Zach give all money to mean cat haters,” Fluffles muttered. “Zach think gold come from tree.”

“Okay, that was my bad.”

“Zach show stats to mean lady, then give mean lady all our money.”

“Yeah, all right, that was stupid—but I didn’t give her all of our money. My money.”

“Our money. It Fluffles too!”

“Fine, whatever.”

Fluffles quieted for a short while, but then soon after came more of the muttering, his words only half coherent. “Only buys Fluffles 1 can, but gives lady enough to eat chicken and tuna for so many cans that Zach never buy Fluffles.”

“Okay!” Zach snapped. “I said I’m sorry. What do you want me to do, go back and rob the place?”

“Yes! Go steal it back. I help.”

“I’m not doing that.”

Fluffles hissed. “Then give chin scratches.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll do that.”

It was extremely difficult to steer with one hand, and provide “chin scratches” with the other, but Fluffles had somehow conned him into doing it. For the next half hour, he would threaten to “tell Alex” if he stopped for even a second, purring all the while. Eventually, Zach held his ground and demanded to be allowed to straighten his back and ride comfortably.

“You can give other half of chin scratch later,” Fluffles said.

Picking up the pace, Zach ignored his growing exhaustion and quickly left the town of Cursed Grounds behind them as he made his way through a moderately trafficked main road and into the next town over, as evident by a sign that read “Welcome to Doom-Bound Keep.”

The further Zach rode away from the city, the more the scenery changed. Now, he found himself frequently sighting more and more greenery with each passing moment. Several times now, he’d passed entire wooded areas, and very often there were small sections covered in grass that separated the sidewalk from the street. On one particular stretch of road, the adjacent sidewalk had a small tree planted every few feet of distance.

As Zach rode down a wide, open street with two-story, fully detached homes on both sides, he bubbled up with envy at the way suburbanites lived. There were children playing on grass-filled lawns outside while their parents lounged in reclining chairs, some sipping beers. Almost every home had trees planted outside, many had gardens, and quite a few even had pools in their fenced-off backyards. That last bit was breathtaking. These people…they literally had their own swimming pools. Zach had never even been in one before! He only ever swam in the Leviathan River.

At the end of the block, Zach spotted an actual park with swings, seesaws, and monkey bars. The unfairness of it all was profound. Supposedly—and Zach couldn’t say for one-hundred-percent certainty if this was even true, it was just “something he’d heard”—but supposedly, Whispery Woods used to have community swimming pools, parks with grass and trees, and other open spaces, but as more and more people began to pack into the ever-more overcrowded hell of a city, they needed to build more and more housing, until eventually they were forced to build on the parks when other spaces were no longer available.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Can’t believe some people have their own pool.

The thought of going for a swim sounded so good right about now. Today was beginning to feel more like a mid-summer day, and Zach’s entire shirt from the chest to the area around his belly button was drenched with sweat. He rarely exerted himself or exercised like this. He really hoped it increased his stamina like Kesten seemed to imply it would—at least over time, anyway. He was working his butt off today, unlike Fluffles, who had somehow fallen asleep.

It had been a good hour since he’d last said anything. He’d lain down in the basket, curling himself into a ball, and he’d snoozed while Zach continued to sweat under the sun. The town of Doom-Bound Keep was apparently much bigger than the last one, because according to Zach’s GPS, at the current pace he was traveling, it would still take another fifteen minutes before he was out of it. That was fine with him, of course. Anywhere was better than Whispery Woods.

Well…the city, at least.

Technically speaking, he was still in Whispery Woods, as Whispery Woods was the name of an entire region and not just the city. But no one really thought of it that way. Whenever someone said “Whispery Woods” in a conversation, they were almost always talking about the city.

“Stop over there!” Fluffles shouted, startling Zach. He hadn’t even known the cat was awake.

“What…what’s going on?” he asked.

Rather than give him an answer, Fluffles hopped out of the basket even as the bike was still in motion, then ran off towards a massive field on the edge of town. “Fluffles!” Zach called after him. “What in the hell are you doing? Where are you—? Hey, Fluffles!”

He watched helplessly as the black-and-white, amber-eyed cat scuttled off on his own. He hopped up a small incline then slipped underneath a torn portion of a large fence that ran all the way around the field and allowed entry from only one side. The side in question was itself roped off by a metal chain, above which was a sign that read: No bicycles or other vehicles allowed in park.

Zach swore under his breath as he brought his bike as close as he possibly could before having to dismount. Taking off his backpack and holding it in front of him, he unzipped the second pouch to grab his lock and chain—but then paused as, off to his right, he saw a cluster of other bikes, some upright, and a few lying down on their sides. That by itself wasn’t such a bizarre sight, but what made it odd was that literally none of them were locked up, and all looked far fancier and more expensive than his own. Not only that, but there were backpacks, some with cell phones plainly visible in little compartments, just…just lying there unattended. Who the hell would do something like that? Why would—

Wait, do people around here just not steal?

The thought was so foreign to him that the shock of it almost caused him to forget all about Fluffles. Where he came from, if you left your bike unlocked, there wasn’t even a “chance” it would get stolen: it would get stolen. There were no ifs or buts about it. Someone was coming to take it from you. But out here, it looked like people could just plop their personal belongings down without fear or concern that someone would make off with their property.

Wanting to hurry after Fluffles, Zach groaned with uncertainty, then decided to just let his bike fall to the pavement in front of the park’s entrance. If nothing else, his bike was clearly the least appealing to any would-be thief. If someone did come around looking to scoop up a new bike, they wouldn’t choose his. As for his backpack, however, there was no way he was leaving that behind. He didn’t care how “safe” this town was: some habits were with you for life.

Running onto the field, Zach was both impressed and stunned by how large, beautiful, and out of the ordinary—at least to him—it was. It was a massive field of green, or rather several of them, with each one sectioned off by a wall of shrubbery at least twice his height. In one section, dozens of neighborhood kids kicked a ball around cones, playing a sport of some kind. In another, a varied group of people walked dogs on leashes. In a third, blankets with food and beverages dotted the field sporadically, as couples and families seemed to be enjoying their own separate picnics under the warm sun.

There was a fourth, mostly empty field, which was just a patch of smooth grass save for a paved indent that ran around in something of a loop. Zach took this for some kind of running track like the one in his school’s gymnasium but only about fifteen times the size. This was where he saw Fluffles. Even without the ability to make most facial expressions, and even from at least a thousand feet away, he could tell that the cat was annoyed with him and becoming impatient.

The hell is he trying to do? Zach wondered, himself becoming annoyed.

Already exhausted from the day’s efforts, he panted and pumped his arms as he ran. The fact that the cat had been able to move from where he’d jumped off to all the way over there in such a short period meant that, at the very least, he had the ability to run faster than Zach could pedal on his bike at max speed. In fact, he was starting to wonder if Fluffles could outrun a DEHV. The thought was somehow both scary and awesome at the same time.

Upon reaching the cat, he bent over, sucking in air. Damn, he was tired. He couldn’t wait to get home and shower and—

No, what am I thinking? I have no home to shower in. That’s done.

Only now, in his sweaty, damp clothing did he realize how difficult this was actually going to be. Still, he knew there was no other option. He couldn’t even imagine the shame, loneliness, and self-hatred he’d feel upon biking back to his apartment then showing up for school tomorrow morning, all alone, without Kalana, without his dad…no! It was this or nothing!

“Why you make me wait,” Fluffles complained.

Zach, still bent over, held out a finger in a gesture for the cat to wait and give him a damn minute to catch his breath. Exhausted, he even sat on the grass, which felt so amazing and comfortable as he ran his hands through it. He couldn’t believe how much he’d missed out on while trapped in that gods-damned city.

“What…what are…?” He couldn’t get the words out. He paused, panted, and tried to speak again. “What…what are you doing, Fluffles?”

The cat ran around in circles as if happy, then came forward and briefly brushed against him. Zach patted him, having no clue what was going on. Then Fluffles said, “I am a good cat. I teach sword fighting to best friend.”

Zach recalled hearing Mr. Oren saying something about that, but at the time, he’d had too much going on to even begin processing it. Or maybe it was just that the idea was so damn unbelievable that his brain had tuned it out. Either way, he needed to hurry up and find that spawn. “We need to get going. I’m level 3. I need to start getting some damn experience.”

“Zach not realize how important it is to learn sword fighting. You learn how now.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “And you’re going to teach me how to fight with a sword?” Fluffles meowed, which he took for a yes. “Really, now?” Once again, the cat meowed happily. “And what am I supposed to learn with? A stick?”

At this, Fluffles sat down and closed his eyes. “Fluffles craft.”

“You’re going to craft me a weapon? How?”

“Shh!”

My Gods-damned cat is shh’ing me, Zach thought in disbelief. This is my life now.

Too exhausted to even bother to protest, he watched as Fluffles continued to sit there on the grass with his eyes closed. This continued for several minutes, during which time Zach decided to lie down on his back and close his eyes. It felt so good. He didn’t even care that a few ants had crawled on his arms. He wasn’t afraid of insects like Kalana was. He merely shooed them off.

This feels nice.

A moment from dozing off, Fluffles meowed. Zach ignored him. Then he hissed—loudly. This time, Zach groaned and sat up. “What now?”

“I finish! I make best friend special sword. Now you have to give me tuna and chin scratches and tell me how good I am.”

“What sword?”

As if in answer to his question, there was a very bizarre-sounding pop in the air above him similar to piercing a balloon. Then, a literal sword fell down with a soft, barely audible thump on the grass in front of him. Mind-blown, Zach reached over and picked it up. It was heavy, the blade was actually sharp and made of steel, and though it had an ugly, light-brown hilt, it nevertheless looked brand new—as though it had only been forged moments ago.

“How did you do it?” he asked, swinging it around in one hand, getting a feel for it. “Just tell me that much. How did you possibly just do this?”

“It easy,” Fluffles said. “My guild very high level. Members use guild workshop from anywhere.”

“What?”

The cat didn’t answer him, either because he didn’t know how to explain it or because he didn’t feel it was worth the time. It did confirm one thing, though: the cat, at least based on what he’d just said, was also literally a member of the God Slayers Guild. He wasn’t just a cat who was friends with and whose “daddy” was in the GSG, but he himself was a member as well.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was around, Zach brought out his stats and his inventory. There were now two entries, one of which was Frog Snax, which meant that, even though his Frog Snax was in his backpack, as long as his backpack was on his, well, back, it meant that it was in his inventory. Of course, while interesting, that was not what currently had his attention; no it was his newest entry that gripped his fascination. Tapping it with his free hand, he read the words that appeared.

Crafted Sword of the Apprentice: crafted by Fluffles Ultdern

4-8 Physical Attack Damage

Zach was so impressed that he now had his own sword—his own piece of equipment—that he almost didn’t care that it had no stats on it and that it only did such a small amount of damage. “I don’t get how this works,” he said, removing his inventory screen. “So, even if I had a million strength, this thing could only hit mobs for 8 damage?”

“Huh?” Fluffles asked. “That not true. Why you say that, Zach?”

“Well, because it says it only does 4-8 physical attack damage.”

“That mean if you have 1 strength.”

“If I have 1 strength…?” Zach’s eyes widened in understanding. “Ohh! Those numbers represent bare minimums. I get it. So if I was just a level-1 dude and I really slashed something good with this, it could do up to 8 damage, but it can go higher if I’m stronger.”

“Yes.”

“What about against people? Not that I ever want to do that. It’s just that I noticed there aren’t any damage numbers when a person hurts another person.”

“No damage numbers.”

“Yeah, but why?”

The cat had no answer, and once again, it must’ve been either because he didn’t know or he didn’t feel like saying right now. Oh well. He’d figure that stuff out later. For now, he was just glad to finally have a weapon of his own. Zach, carrying the blade in his right hand, bent and unbent his knees, feeling far more invigorated. He felt like a real warrior now. He had his own, actual sword equipment. That meant he could use Wave Slash again if he wanted—though it would probably be best not to do it until he was sure he wouldn’t pass out from E-debt.

“This is awesome, little buddy. My first piece of real equipment. Thank you. You are a good boy.”

Fluffles meowed and then ran in a circle, which Zach took to mean he was happy. “Now I teach sword fight!”

“Yeah, but…” Glancing up at the sky while being careful not to look directly into the sun, Zach could tell even without looking at his phone that it was at least three hours past noon. If he started practicing now, he might have to find a motel or something in town. Did he really have time for this? “Are you sure we shouldn’t do this later?”

“If Zach goes fighting mobs, Zach die without knowing sword fighting.”

He sighed. “All right. Teach me then, Fluffles. I’ll try to learn as fast as I—”

An intense, unbelievable pain exploded in the right side of his face, and without understanding why or what happened, Zach simply crumpled to the ground. For a moment, all he could do was moan on the grass and rub his forehead where he’d been hit—or struck by something. He was confused. It felt like someone had just punched him in the face with all their strength.

“The…the hell just happened? What just happened?” he asked, his words starting off conversational but ending in a high-pitched shout.

Fluffles meowed in a way that sort of came across as angry but more in a forced kind of way. “Fluffles hit you with wooden sword. You need dodge. Stand.”

Zach scrambled back to his feet, still rubbing the throbbing, likely bruised spot on his head. Fluffles claimed to have hit him with a wooden sword, but how the hell had he even held one? Or where was it? He was so damn confused he couldn’t even understand what “hit you with a wooden sword” even meant.

And then he saw the shadow in the grass, and out of sheer reflex alone, he dropped to his knees as the sound of a whoosh from above him told him he’d only just avoided being clocked a second time. To his bewilderment, he could now see a wooden sword floating all on its own where he’d only just been standing. It disappeared after only a moment, though, and if Zach had not turned his head up when he had, he wouldn’t have seen it at all.

“Fluffles, are you summoning things to attack me with?”

“I am a good cat. I am helping you be a good Zach.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. You could give me a little warning next time before you—”

“You hold wrong!” Fluffles shouted at him, jumping in the air and then meowing. “Spread legs wider. Hold two hands. Bend knees.”

Suddenly not wanting to make this adorable, obscenely powerful creature disappointed or angry, Zach obeyed, bending his knees, spreading his legs wider apart, and gripping his sword in two hands instead of one.

“Look,” Fluffles said.

The wooden sword reappeared, and Zach nearly jumped backwards, but he stopped himself as he realized it was no longer moving in to strike him. Instead, it was striking the empty air in front of Fluffles.

“Do,” Fluffles said.

“Do?”

“Do!”

Oh, wait, I get it.

The wooden sword was making a repetitive, constant motion. It would pull back, turn horizontally so that the blade faced Zach, and then quickly strike upwards before disappearing, reappearing, and making the same exact motion again. Nodding, Zach bent his knees, pointed his blade forward, and then swung his arms upward, his blade making a satisfying whoosh with the motion.

“Again!”

Zach repeated the strike.

“Again!”

Breathing heavily, he went at it another time.

“Again!”

And a fourth time.

“Again!”

On the fifth time, the wooden blade reappeared, but it did so directly in front and above him. He briefly yelped in fear, but to his amazement, the motion of his own blade deflected it before it could strike him, and with slightly echoing clack, the wooden blade was cut in half, with both pieces flying off in opposition directions.

“Yay!” Fluffles cheered. “Now we learn next strike.”

“I need a break.”

“No break!”

Zach groaned. This was going to be a painful lesson.